Vengeance
by ohfortheloveofsinbad
Summary: Sham Lash has finally made its move to finish the job Ja'far started, and they're ready to destroy the disgraces who couldn't complete their mission, along with the original target. Ja'far decides it's time to get rid of the Organization he was born into once and for all, but Sinbad mustn't find out. Rated M for explicit content (also includes SinJa).
1. Assassination Attempt

"Sin, you can't draw on official documents!" Ja'far scolded, holding up what _had_ been a complaint form from a villager, but had been made useless due to badly drawn flowers and stick figures on its edges.

"You think _I_ did that?" Sinbad asked, baffled that Ja'far would think he'd defile important documents in such a way (though he actually did).

"I _know_ you did," Ja'far hissed, "Pisti and Sharrkan are always under some sort of supervision whenever scrolls are nearby, and Aladdin has been preoccupied with his studies. I can't think of anyone else irresponsible enough to draw on one of these," he said as he waved the document in Sinbad's face.

The purple-haired king smiled sheepishly. "Alright, you have me there..." he mumbled. "Nobody will see it but us, though. I didn't think it'd matter if I drew on it."

Ja'far's face went red with anger. "Maybe not, but you need to nip this habit in the bud before you start drawing on official trade documents."

Sinbad sighed. "Okay..."

The freckled advisor wrinkled his nose. "The next time I see something like this, you'll get more than just a stern talking to," he growled.

"Y-yes sir..." Sinbad mumbled nervously. He was slouched in his seat, making himself seem smaller as if it that were some sort of defense, but he suddenly perked up a little. "Are you saying your punishment will be... _physical?"_ He asked with a smirk.

Ja'far hesitated a moment, trying to place why Sinbad was getting so excited before it finally dawned on him. "Tha-that's not...! _Sin!"_ he growled, flustered. " _Physical,_ not _sexual,_ you pervert!"

Said pervert stuck out his tongue. "You're no fun. Aren't you supposed to be nice to your lover?"

"I'm not going to reward you for misbehaving, Sin, now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get-" a slight creak caught Ja'far's attention. His eyes darted to where he assumed was the source of the sound: a large, red screen with black flowers painted on it, an item imported from the Kou Empire that they received a short while ago, "- back to work."

Noticing Ja'far's ever so slight display of distraction, Sinbad furrowed his brow, concerned. He began standing up. "Ja'far?"

Ja'far's gaze flicked back to Sinbad for a brief second before his eyes widened. Suddenly, he realized what the sound was. "No!" He cried. He jumped in front of the king just as an arrow came flying out from behind the screen.

The king's advisor cried out when the arrow lodged itself into his shoulder. He had no time, however, to thank the gods that Sinbad hadn't been hit, as within that split second, a figure popped out from behind the screen. With short, dark hair and black, angry eyes (Ja'far assumed him to be a man due to his build and his hair), he was the very picture of Fallen.

The second Ja'far acknowledged the rags and bandages covering him from head to toe, his heart nearly stopped.

 _Sham Lash..._

Sinbad took a surprised step back. Ja'far lunged at the attacker, the pain in his shoulder forgotten in his rush to protect his king.

The shady figure pulled several daggers out of a holster on his shoulder and chucked them at the angry advisor, who dodged them with a quick step to the side. The knives landed in the side of Sinbad's desk, making him gasp in surprise. Ja'far countered with his own daggers, which were just as easily dodged.

The man stopped in his tracks. He placed a hand on his bicep and brought his forearm into an upward position, exposing a shiny metal gauntlet adorned with what seemed to be spikes.

Ja'far's lip quirked upward into a sneer. He slid back his sleeves enough to expose his blades, then lunged.

The two men clashed together. Ja'far felt a great pressure against his cheekbone, then in his ribs before he managed to pin the assassin down. The freckled man was poised to stab his blade into the other man's neck before he remembered that Sinbad was still in the room, and Sinbad did _not_ allow murder unless it was absolutely unavoidable. Ja'far brought the blade down, stabbing it into the floor angrily. It rested a small distance away from the assassin's neck.

Ja'far leaned in real close to the man's face. "Who are you and why are you here?" He hissed.

The assassin smirked. He spit in Ja'far's face, and, just as the advisor recoiled in disgust, he switched their positions so that he was on top, pinning down the white-haired man with ease. He leaned down next to Ja'far's ear and whispered, "Kill Sinbad, or we will." He then quickly reached into one of his many concealed pockets and pulled out a small capsule, which he popped into his mouth and swallowed. His mouth soon began to foam and he fell down dead on top of Ja'far.

The surviving assassin's eyes widened. _"Sin's in trouble."_ he thought.


	2. At least remove the arrow!

"Ja'far!" Sinbad cried as he finally regained his senses.

Ja'far pushed the dead man off of him. "Sin, are you alright?" He asked as he stood. He knew that the adrenaline was wearing off, as his shoulder throbbed with pain and his cheek began to sting. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to move in general, and Ja'far could only hope and pray that his ribs were bruised, not broken.

"Am _I_ alright?! Ja'far, I'm not the one with an arrow in my arm! Come here, we're going to see Yamu," Sinbad said as he rushed to his adviser's side.

"We need to arrange a meeting with the generals. You need to be placed under guard and- Please don't try to pick me up, Sin. My ribs might be broken," Ja'far grunted.

"Well, how am I supposed to get you to Yamu?" Sinbad growled.

"I can walk, thank you very much. My legs weren't damaged," Ja'far retorted.

"I'll be your crutch. Put your arm around me," Sinbad urged as he tried to take Ja'far's good arm and put it around his shoulders.

Ja'far pulled it away with something just short of a sneer. "Just shield me from the eyes of the servants. They'll go into a panic if they see my injuries," he compromised.

Sinbad hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether to give in to Ja'far's stubbornness or not. "... Fine, but you have to tell me _immediately_ if you need help with _anything."_

Ja'far huffed and looked away. "I won't hesitate," he lied in order to keep his king quiet.

Sinbad stood close to Ja'far's side as they walked down the hall. The adviser made him stop and order several of the servants they ran into on their way to Black Libra tower to find the other generals and tell them to gather in the conference hall at once.

The subordinates, once they saw Ja'far, didn't hesitate in their escape. With wide eyes, they ran off to fulfill their orders.

"I'll walk up to Yamuraiha's lab once we get there. You stay in the conference hall and meet the other generals when they arrive," Ja'far ordered.

"Why can't we both just stay in the conference hall?" Sinbad asked.

"Because Yamuraiha isn't going to just carry a case of medical equipment with her at all times!" Ja'far hissed. "She's a magician, not a miracle-worker."

"How about _you_ stay in the conference hall while _I_ get Yamu?" Sinbad suggested.

Ja'far sneered. "You know what? I can wait until _after_ the conference to be healed. I can't let you go about unattended."

"Don't be stubborn!" Sinbad scolded. "You're bleeding!"

"I've had to deal with worse for longer amounts of time, Sin," Ja'far reminded him. "The arrow has stopped most of the blood flow. I'll be fine."

Sinbad's upper lip twitched and pulled upward slightly. "You can't go around with an arrow in your shoulder for-"

"I'll get it removed after the meeting," Ja'far interrupted.

Sinbad sighed. "Can't you let me fuss over you at times like these?"

"No," was the simple answer he received.

"You're almost _never_ needy!" Sinbad whined. "It's not cute at all!"

"I don't pride myself on being 'cute,' Sin. And now really isn't time for a lover's quarrel," Ja'far said.

Sinbad grumbled something inaudible under his breath. "I want you to get checked over before we start the meeting."

"Sin, we have to wait for the others to show up before-"

"It'll be at least half an hour before they all get here. Please, let's at least get that arrow removed," Sinbad pleaded.

Ja'far huffed and tightened his jaw for a few moments. _It's all for the best..._ he convinced himself, and raised his chin. "... very well, my king," he said as he finally submitted.

Sinbad smiled brightly at Ja'far and triumphantly led his adviser to Yamuraiha's lab, which, thankfully, wasn't far away at all.

Sinbad burst through the door, which made the dark wood clash against the wall. "Yamuraiha!" he yelled.

"Sin, there's no need to be so loud..." Ja'far gasped. Though it had been a short walk, the loss of blood had finally gotten to him, and smallest tasks, such as walking to that wooden bench at the other end of the room to sit and rest for a moment, seemed akin to climbing a mountain at that moment.

"Yeah?" came Yamuraiha's voice from another corner of the room.

Ja'far stepped into the room, Sinbad close behind, and tried his hardest to not touch anything, which was hard, as the entire room was a cluttered mess of papers, potions, and odd equipment he had little interest or time to try and remember the names of.

"I need you to look at Ja'far," Sinbad said. He cast a nervous glance to an oddly colored slime that jiggled of its own accord in a glass jar on the shelf nearest to him.

Yamuraiha sat at a messy desk with safety goggles on. She added a few drops of some pink concoction to a green solution. "Just hold on a second, you two. I'll help you out when this changes color."

Ah, that made him a little mad. "Yamuraiha, this is kind of urgent," Sinbad growled.

"Uh, and this is _kind of_ most likely to explode if I don't stabilize it!" Yamuraiha snapped. "Wait a few seconds or end up in chunks."

Sinbad huffed angrily, and Ja'far placed a hand on his tan arm. "It's fine, Sin," he assured. "I can wait a little longer, I'm not dying."

The purple-haired king looked at his adviser with uncertainty, and the smaller man flashed a tiny, but assuring smile at him.

Several drops later, The green solution turned bright blue, and Yamuraiha giggled contentedly. "Ah, the wonders of science!" she exclaimed as she slipped off her protective goggles. "A color change like that could _never_ happen naturally, which makes it so interesting! Now, what did you-" the water mage's eyes grew wide when she saw the bloody official and her king waiting for her from a few paces away. "Oh, gods..."

"We're going to have a meeting with all of the generals shortly, so we have to make this fast," Ja'far said.

Yamuraiha swallowed thickly. "I don't... You look pretty banged up, so... ah, it might take a little more than a few minutes to patch you up..."

"You just have to get the arrow out and my shoulder bandaged before we start the meeting. We can save the rest for later," Ja'far informed.

"That shoulder is what's going to take the most time. Please tell me that's the worst of it all," Yamuraiha said.

"It is. I have to be ready to start the meeting, so I'm not sure what it'll take in terms of speed, but I'll take out the arrow myself if need be," Ja'far said.

"Don't touch it!" Yamuraiha said quickly. "Sin, would you help him lay on the bed, please, while I grab the right materials?"

Sinbad grinned, but bit his tongue to restrain a lewd comment. "Of course," he said.

Ja'far scoffed and walked over to the cot before Sinbad could scoop him up and carry him. He sat down and slowly lowered himself onto his back, which was hard to do carefully, as his ribs screamed in protest, and any movement of his left arm caused a bolt of pain to shoot up his shoulder. It hurt so much that he was almost thankful for the thick, tanned arms that slid behind his back and under his legs that helped him lie down and stretch out somewhat comfortably.

"I could've done it myself..." Ja'far mumbled in half-hearted irritation.

"Mm, I know," Sinbad said with a smile. He was pleased to think that, after over fifteen years, he knew how to tell when there was a different meaning behind Ja'far's words.

Yamuraiha was back in seconds, and she shooed Sinbad away from Ja'far's side so that she could tend to his injuries. She would have been mentally squealing over the cute moment between the two, however, if she hadn't been so challenged for time.

She took her pair of shears and was about to cut into the fabric of Ja'far's jacket when she was stopped by said man.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm... cutting off your jacket...?" Yamuraiha said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Do you _have_ to?" asked the stubborn man below her.

Yamuraiha scrunched up her nose. "It's already ruined, Ja'far. There's no saving it. You're wasting time, just let me cut it off."

"Am I supposed to go into the meeting jacketless?" Ja'far asked, sounding a little panicked.

"Gods, your such a priss!" Yamuraiha scolded. "You're more worried about your clothes than your injuries!"

"Because I can go into a meeting with an arrow in my shoulder, but I can't go in half-naked!" Ja'far protested.

"Sinbad does all the time! No one will care!"

"I'm not Sinbad!"

Yamuraiha groaned. "Sin, please go grab a jacket for him so he'll stop being a baby."

Said man laughed and left the room without hesitation.

Yamuraiha huffed, but was finally able to cut off Ja'far's jacket and shirt without any more protests.

 **A/N: Happy New Year everyone! Thanks for reading, and please review!**


	3. A Course of Action

"I am very sorry to have called you all away from your duties so suddenly. I'm know you were all very busy, but I hope that you understand that I wouldn't have called a meeting out of the blue like this if it weren't an emergency," Ja'far announced with the poise, pride, and dignity he always held during meetings.

One look around the room, and anyone could see that all of the other generals were tense beyond belief. Most held noticeably nervous expressions, though the intensity varied from person to person.

Those who did not hold an anxious expression held a confused one, and Ja'far felt more than a little self-conscious as quizzical glances and stares were directed at his exposed chest.

Pisti licked her lips and tapped Sinbad on the shoulder, and he turned to look at her expectantly.

"Why doesn't Ja'far have a shirt on?" The young woman asked.

"Hm..." Sinbad hummed. He turned back around to look up and down Ja'far's body with a smile.

"I guess he doesn't, does he?" the king chuckled, though he inwardly grimaced as he remembered how irritated Ja'far had been when he only brought the robes.

 _"I can't believe you forgot to grab a shirt," Ja'far mumbled as he pulled his robes inward in an attempt to cover his exposed torso. Sadly for him, the baggy material just wouldn't stay in place._

 _"I believe I was told to grab one of your jackets. I don't remember a shirt ever being mentioned," Sinbad retorted. He stared at Ja'far's pale, freckled chest without a hint of shame._

 _"I think," Ja'far said slowly, "that common sense should tell you that when the shoulder of a robe is damaged by an arrow, the clothing under it is ruined as well."_

 _Sinbad laughed and grinned. "It's really nothing, Ja'far! No one will mind!" He said. "You could even go topless if you wanted!"_

 _"Sin, no." Ja'far huffed. He adjusted his robes again, but pulling them inward to cover his chest made the fabric in the back move upward and expose skin. By the irritation on his face, Sinbad could tell that Ja'far had suddenly began to hate the way his clothes had been tailored._

 _"Are you scared someone's going to see your boobs?" Sinbad asked cheekily._

"Nope!" Pisti giggled, which pulled him out of his flashback.

The king rubbed at his arm, a bruise had already formed courtesy of Ja'far's fist. That man could never take a joke!

"He doesn't have one because I forgot to grab one," he informed simply.

A faint blush spread across Pisti's cheeks. At the statement, thousands of thoughts began to run through her mind at once. _Forgot to grab him a shirt? Does that mean you ruined his clothes, Sin? Did you two do something dirty? Did you call us here to tell us all that you two are finally getting married?!_

"How'd his shirt get ruined?!" Pisti asked, albeit a little more loudly than she had intended it to be. No matter, no one shushed her. She knew that if her king and his adviser had done something dirty, she knew that either Ja'far would blush or look guilty or Sinbad wouldn't be able to hide a smirk or an expression of satisfaction.

She was surprised to see, however, that instead of some timid mien, Ja'far's eyes became shaded and he appeared to be angry, and instead of a smug countenance, Sinbad took on a melancholic look... or was that guilt?

"Ja'far?" Hinahoho asked, concerned. "What happened to your clothes?"

The adviser sighed. "It's a small part of why the meeting was called, if you'd allow me to continue," he said calmly.

Once he was sure he had everyone's undivided attention, as in, the side conversations and the nervous coughs and the sighs of boredom had ceased, he began to speak again.

"There was an attempt on Sin's life a short while ago," Ja'far stated, his tone as serious as it could possibly get.

The tension in the room thickened to the point where absolutely no one could sit comfortably. Several of the generals looked to Sinbad, as if they had to make sure he was actually there, like they hadn't seen him walk into the room, totally and utterly late, with Ja'far and Yamuraiha following close behind, and the rest sat in their seats with looks of horror upon their faces.

"If it weren't for Ja'far, I might not have made it out unscathed!" Sinbad said with a nervous laugh. He always remembered to give credit where it was due.

The adviser blushed lightly and cleared his throat. "He is completely fine. I had Yamuraiha check over him," he assured. "Of course, the attacker received proper punishment for his actions, and he shall never be able to hurt anyone ever again. However, he was only one of what I'm sure will be many more to come. We need to decide on a course of action, as another attack is bound to occur, and should it happen during some moment I'm not with him, I fear that Sinbad might not escape unharmed."

"It sounds like you're gloating," Sharrkan teased despite the serious atmosphere.

Ja'far shot a look at him, and the Heliohapt shrunk down in his seat. "Sharrkan, the attack was delivered by a highly trained assassin," he scolded. "It takes a lot of skill to catch them, and, though I will admit you possess several admirable traits, you simply do not possess those necessary to capture one."

"What makes you say that?" the dark-skinned man growled.

"You mean, why don't I think you could apprehend an assassin?"

"Yeah! What kind of traits do you need to catch one of those jerks?!" the Heliohapt asked. "And what's so special about them, anyway? Their speed? I bet I could beat any one of those assholes in a speed match any day! No doubt I could destroy any of them with my sword in seconds!

Ja'far gave him a long look. "Your speed is what I considered an admirable trait, Sharrkan, along with your swordsmanship abilities, but you need more than just that to be of use," he informed.

"What's so special about them?" Sharrkan hissed.

"Stealth is perhaps their strongest trait, and they all have great persistence," Ja'far answered. "No doubt you'd be able to outrun one of them, but what I'm looking for is the ability to hear or sense one."

Sharrkan crossed his arms grumpily and folded into himself as he grumbled unintelligible words.

Ja'far hummed as he looked about the room. "Masrur, Drakon, Yamuraiha," he called, and recieved looks of interest from each of them.

"You three have the skills I'm looking for. I believe Sin needs to be put under constant supervision, and I will call upon you to watch over him when I cannot," the adviser commanded.

"Yes, sir!" Said the trio.

Sinbad sighed softly. "Don't you have any trust in me? I can watch over myself, you know," he whined.

"I trust you with my life, Sin," Ja'far stated monotonously. "But you almost took an arrow, which shows you are not always on your guard, and even if you were, there's the issue of sleep."

"I remember a certain assassination attempt on me that turned into a failure even though I was sleeping," Sinbad said cheekily.

"And had luck not been on your side that night, you would have been dead a long time ago," Ja'far hissed.

"Woah! Ja'far's eyes are all scary!" Pisti whispered to Spartos, who nodded stiffly as a bead of sweat from anxiety dripped down his temple.

Sinbad pouted and looked away. "... Fine," he mumbled.

Ja'far sighed softly. "That was all this meeting was for. Drakon, you will take watch until I have devised a schedule. Unless anyone has any questions or suggestions, this meeting shall be dismissed."

"You never told us why you don't have a shirt on!" Pisti cried in outrage from her seat.

Ja'far's upper lip twitched slightly, but he forced himself not to give a full-on sneer. He disliked the looks of anticipation he received from the other generals. "Yamuraiha had to cut it off," he said nonchalantly.

Hinahoho's brows furrowed and he looked at Yamuraiha. "Why did you have to cut his shirt off?" he asked.

"... I had to get to the arrow," Yamuraiha mumbled.

"Arrow?" Hinahoho asked. Horror began to etch itself into his features.

"He was really brave! You really can't ask for anyone better!" Sinbad praised. "He took the arrow to save me!"

Everyone turned to stare at Ja'far, who tried to bring his sleeves upward to hide his face, but winced in an almost undetectable way when the action caused a twinge of pain to shoot through his injured arm. He settled instead for turning his head away. "I've taken worse in more important places," he stated. "Please do not worry about me."

"Yamuraiha?" Hinahoho asked with an unsure glance.

"Don't you worry for a second! The arrow didn't go all the way through, so it was hard to remove, but I'm making sure he's being treated properly! I didn't get to finish the job just yet because he got fussy over being late, but from what I saw, he's completely fixable and he shouldn't maintain any permanent damage, and if he remembers to come back to me every day so I can continue to treat the wound, there won't be a high risk of infection!" Yamuraiha explained. "See, the process for restoring his shoulder isn't very easy, it's very intricate and delicate and a wrong move could damage his arm forever, so it takes a while to do, which is why he's not healed yet. See, what I do is use water magic to guide the muscle back into place and connect it with its separated part, and then I use healing magic to bind them together again! It's like a puzzle, though it's painful to him whenever I mess up, so I have to take my time by-"

"You talk too much..." Sharrkan huffed. He rested his feet on the table and huffed. He still seemed to be sore from virtually being told that he wasn't good enough to protect Sinbad.

"What was that?!" Yamuraiha screeched. She lifted her staff. "Watch your mouth or I'll boil the water in your body!"

Sharrkan got up out of his seat immediately and thrust a finger in her face. "Ja'far said you couldn't do that anymore!"

Yamuraiha snarled and tackled him, and they both bickered and clawed at each other on the ground while everyone but Ja'far and Sinbad stared in amusement.

With distaste the adviser stared at them and debated on whether or not he should risk the chance of further injury and break the two up.

Sinbad, on the other hand, hadn't paid attention to anything. Instead, he had been immersed in his own world, pondering over a question that had come to mind shortly after he had been reminded of the assassination attempt.

"Hey, Ja'far," Sinbad finally vocalized. Suddenly, all eyes were on him. Even Yamuraiha and Sharrkan stopped their squabbling to hear what their king had to say.

"Did that assassin say something to you before he died?" the curious king asked.

Ja'far stared at him for a long moment before he finally shook his head. "No, Sin. Nothing at all," he said as though the man were crazy to have asked such a question in the first place.

The purple-haired man searched Ja'far's face intently for any sign of deceit. He sighed when he found none, as he had thought for sure he had seen the assassin say something to his adviser, but either he had been wrong, or Ja'far was a better liar than he thought.

"Thank you for the assurance, Ja'far. I thought I had seen his lips move, but surely I was mistaken."

Ja'far bowed his head. "Do not fret, my king. If I had been spoken to, his words would have been told to you right away," he promised.

Sinbad nodded, but his heart felt heavy. Normally, he would have no trouble believing what Ja'far told him, but this time... This time, something inside of him warned that his adviser's words couldn't be trusted.

A brief, soft smile at Sinbad was directed from Ja'far before his face turned serious again. "Meeting dismissed," he stated, then turned toward Sharrkan and Yamuraiha, who had resumed their fighting sometime during the conversation between him and his king, and snapped, "Yamuraiha!"

Said magician halted her attempts at choking a certain Heliohapt and looked up at the pale, freckled man from atop the aforementioned Heliohapt's stomach. "Yeah?"

"Off of Sharrkan at once. I need you to finish with my shoulder so that I can return to work."

Yamuraiha immediately stood and dusted herself off. "Of course! I'm sorry, I guess I forgot about you while I was beating on him," she said, and gestured to Sharrkan, who had been left as nothing more than a dazed puddle on the ground.

Ja'far made a small noise, almost a grunt, to show how displeased he was with the answer, and jerked his head so that Yamuraiha could take the lead.

Without another word, the muddled magician escorted the injured adviser out of the room.

Sharrkan stood up with a huff and rearranged his robes in frustration. "I'm going to go practice!" he stated angrily, and stormed out of the room.

With a chuckle, Drakon stood and moved to Sinbad's side as the room cleared out, and waited until only he and his king were left before he leaned close to Sinbad's ear and whispered, "Do you think Ja'far was telling the truth?"

The older man was silent for a few moments before he finally answered, "I'm... not sure."

Drakon shook his head. "He tries to act mature, but if he has lied to you, it only shows how much of a child he really is."

"Don't speak little of him, now," Sinbad warned. "I realize he sometimes makes decisions that are less than admirable, but I know that what he does, he does because he believes it is what's best for me and this country."

"Well said, my king..." Drakon said. "Forgive me for my thoughtless words."

"It was nothing, Drakon. I will not hold them against you," Sinbad said with a small, reassuring smile.

The reptilian man smiled back softly. "You are too kind."

Finally, the king rose from his chair and straightened his robes.

"Sin..." Drakon called quietly.

"What is it, Drakon?" the purple-haired man asked as he slid his chair in.

"Do you worry for him?"

At that, the king paused. It was only for a second, but it was still hesitation, which he tried to recover from by breathing a small laugh. "What an odd question," he replied, "to which I must say, when do I not?"

Drakon gazed at him with worry. "Sin, you seem nervous," he observed. "As one ofyour trusted eldest generals, I am here to listen should there be something that troubles you."

Sinbad turned to smile at him, though the expression did not reach his eyes. "I'm alright, Drakon. Everything is fine," he said. "Perhaps Ja'far has deceived me, but there's also a chance that he hasn't. He has always placed his trust in me, even when he was unsure of what might come to pass, and I feel as though I owe it to him to do the same, even if it's just this once."

Drakon narrowed his eyes at the young king, who then sighed.

"If it turns out that he actually isn't lying to me, do you know how terrible it'd feel to have it be shown that I trust him so little?" Sinbad asked.

"Ah, I see..." the dragon mumbled. He bowed his head in acknowledgement. "I believe I understand your reasoning now."

"Good," was Sinbad's curt reply before he finally left the meeting hall with the assigned general in tow.


	4. The Decision

"I'm sorry I can't do anything about the pain," Yamuraiha said as she carefully cleaned out the wound. "But if I give you something, we'll have to wait for the effects to wear off before we can move on, and you said you want this to be done as quickly as possible."

"It's not like I haven't had to deal with pain before..." Ja'far said in a broken voice. His eyes were shut, his face was contorted in a heavy wince from the painful sting, and his head was turned away from the magician who had a slender finger stuck in his wound.

"Do we need to take a break?" Yamuraiha asked after she had finally finished cleaning the injury. Earlier, the mage had been able to remove the majority of the arrow, but Ja'far hadn't been too pleased to learn that the tip of the arrowhead had broken off in his arm. Yamuraiha had just managed to retrieve the broken-off shard before the meeting, but didn't get a chance to do anything else before the adviser had stubbornly announced that they were late and ran off to the meeting hall.

The aforementioned adviser had looked extremely uncomfortable, and Yamuraiha felt awful for making the man (who was normally inexpressive when it came to pain) look like a poor, helpless child.

"I'm fine," Ja'far hissed. He really seemed to be trying his hardest not to be difficult. "We're almost done, aren't we?"

"Not even close yet," Yamuraiha said. "I've only finished cleaning it. The worst part is yet to come."

"Just get it over with. I don't want to be here for longer than I have to be. I have work to finish," Ja'far said moodily.

"You're not going back to work after this!" Yamuraiha declared. "You have to let your body rest. I'm going to inform everyone that you are not to be outside of your room until tomorrow comes."

Ja'far growled in frustration and looked away. "You don't understand, Yamuraiha," he mumbled. How dare she? The arrow had hit his _left_ arm, not the right one! He figured he would be alright to work.

"You're a workaholic, but you need to rest. That's all I _have_ to understand," Yamuraiha huffed. She the returned to his arm. "I saw you were able to move it during the meeting, so the tendon isn't completely severed, but I think it's torn."

Ja'far grit his teeth. "And that means?"

"It means that you're either going to be in here for a while, or you're going to be in a lot of pain," the magician explained.

Ja'far turned his head to look her in the eyes. "Are you threatening me?" he asked with a scowl.

Yamuraiha irritably shook her head. "It means I can either cast a spell so that you won't feel anything, but you'll have to wait for it to wear off so that I can solder your muscles back together, or you can take the pain and we can move right along," she said.

"If it's just a tear, the process will be quick, right?" Ja'far asked.

"Well, it'll be faster than the thing with your muscles will be," Yamuraiha said.

"Then let's just get it over with," Ja'far begged.

"Very well... Do you want something to bite down on? I could give you a squishy thing to squeeze in your right hand, but I don't think that'll be enough," Yamuraiha fussed.

"By the names of the gods, Yamuraiha, just get it over with!" Ja'far groaned. Did the woman really have to drag the process out as she was?

"Fine, fine! But don't get mad at me when it hurts!" Yamuraiha huffed.

Ja'far grunted in response, and the mage scrunched up her nose in frustration. She placed her hand atop the wound and closed her eyes, then lifted her staff and guided the Rukh to do her bidding.

An uncomfortable heat in his shoulder made Ja'far cringe in the slightest. Quickly, the discomfort and heat grew until it was unbearable, and the adviser hissed in pain.

"Stay still!" Yamuraiha commanded. "You'll make it worse if you move around."

 _"FUCK!"_ the poor man cried. It felt as though his arm were being torn out of its socket, and it _hurt,_ damn it! Just how the hell was he supposed to stay still through this? Yamuraiha said it'd be quick, but the process hurt so bad and seemed to be taking forever! Couldn't she figure that it was nearly impossible to stay completely still when it felt like his arm was being ripped off?!

"Done!"

It was about time! The adviser tried to convince himself that the pain hadn't really been that bad and that he was just being a baby about the situation.

"What?" Ja'far croaked, and immediately began to inwardly scold himself for how shaky his voice had sounded. Was he a man? Surely not if he couldn't stand three seconds of pain.

"You're done, as in, I restored the tendon. Don't move your arm just yet, though. I'm done, but not _completely_ done yet, you know? I haven't fixed your muscles yet, I mean, but the tendon is done," Yamuraiha tried to explain.

"I... see... Well, then, please continue... I'd like to be done here... so that I can rest and recover..." Ja'far mumbled breathlessly.

Yamuraiha sighed. "Understood," she said. "I need you to tell me if something doesn't feel right. I don't do this very often and I don't want to cause any permanent damage to your arm."

A small grunt was the only answer the mage received, and she took it as a signal of understanding and set to work on restoring the tired adviser's muscles. 

* * *

Ja'far stared blankly at the wall on the other side of his room. He had promised Yamuraiha he would rest for the remainder of the day, but his arm was so sore that sleep was impossible at that moment.

He scrunched up his nose and cursed his stupidity, for he hadn't asked Yamuraiha to give him something for the pain, and she had already put out the announcement that he was not to be out of his bed. This meant that if he tried to leave in order to find her, he'd surely be dragged straight to his room by an irritated general or a group of worried assistants, and he'd be right back at square one again. No, he wasn't about to put forth any effort to find Yamuraiha when he was as sore as he was and it was obvious he wouldn't get anywhere.

That just left him alone in his room, fully awake, and with nothing to do but brood over his thoughts, and that was a scary thing all on its own.

There were so many possibilities, so many dark areas for his mind to wander, there was his dreadful past, the incident in Parthevia, and, last but certainly not least, the incident just that day where he had almost lost his beloved king.

Thinking of, where had that assassin come from? Ships were supposed to report their cargo and passengers as well as where everything had come from, and refugees from specific areas were given a quick background check for any history of violence or some other unsavory lifestyle. That meant that the assassin was a stowaway, his assistants were inattentive in checking over profiles, or there was a traitor somewhere in Sindria who had allowed the assassin in...

That final possibility seemed highly unlikely. There was absolutely no way there could be a traitor in Sindria. It was probably best to rule out the second possibility as well, because Ja'far trusted his assistants and knew that they valued their jobs as much he did his, and they would never be so careless in their work that they would let a shady character from Parthevia into the country. That left the possibility of stowaway as the only option.

Ja'far's thoughts returned to what the man had said seconds before he died.

 _"Kill Sinbad, or we will."_

The adviser felt uncomfortable, to say the least. If one assassin had gotten onto the island nation in an undetectable way, then others could, as well, and doubtlessly they would.

But why would they attack at the time they did? Ja'far had left the organization a little over ten years ago; why would they choose to go after the one he left them for when Sinbad was in his prime? The man had seven Djinns, eight generals, and an entire army, an entire _nation_ at his beck and call. The assassins were mostly uneducated, but they weren't stupid. Surely they wouldn't risk everything for an act of revenge...

Unless, perhaps, it wasn't _just_ revenge.

Yes, Ja'far suddenly remembered that Parthevia and the Kou Empire had developed a treaty some time ago. Perhaps the assassins were sent on Kou's behalf, but that didn't quite make sense, since Parthevia also had a treaty with Sindria...

Of course, there was always the fact that the assassin had _snuck_ onto the island, and probably hadn't had the intention of being caught.

In fact, if the assassin hadn't said anything to Ja'far, he might not have known the man was a part of Sham Lash.

The assassination attempt could have been an issue from the Kou Empire through its ties to Parthevia, who had gone through with it in order to keep relations strong, but had carried it out in a way that should have been secretive enough that they could also keep their ties with Sindria after the deed was done... or Sham Lash had moved its base to the Kou Empire at some point in time, whether it be from the chief's personal decision or an order from higher authority, which would mean that Parthevia wasn't involved at all...

Ja'far couldn't quite settle on a theory, and that only served to make him more nervous than he had been beforehand. The adviser knew one thing for certain, at least, and that was that he had to protect his king. If need be, he would even lay down his life to do so.

In that moment, in the near pitch darkness of the room in that nearly moonless night, the former assassin came to a decision.

He was going to stop Sham Lash for good, no matter what the cost.

 **A/N: I'm sorry this was so late, everyone! I had a few personal issues that left me in a bad funk for FAR too long, but hey, I'm better now, so expect some faster updates!**


	5. Preparations

An empty glass was slammed down hard against a table followed by a loud exclamation of "Ah! He's such a jerk!" from Yamuraiha, the drunk magician, who was slumped against the bar table with her cheek against the smooth wood.

"Who are you talking about?" asked Sharrkan, who was equally as drunk. He didn't even look at her as he added in an unempathetic way, "Did you get dumped again?"

"I'm talking about Ja'far!" the witch huffed as though she hadn't heard Sharrkan's jab.

The Heliohapt furrowed his eyebrows. "Ja'far?"

Yamuraiha slowly pulled herself back up into a sitting position. "Yeah, that guy!" she said.

"Wha'd 'e do?" the male general slurred.

"He completely ignored all of my warnings!" the female general wailed. "I told him to stay in bed, but he snuck into his office early in the morning and did a bunch of work anyway! And he scared all the servants into leaving him alone, so they couldn't get him back into his room, and any of the attempts from any of the generals-including the ones to physically move him out of the office- didn't work! He always ended up right back in his chair within the hour he was forced to move!"

Sharrkan snorted and laughed obnoxiously. "Oh, man! I bet not even death itself could keep that guy from working!"

"It's not funny!" Yamuraiha whined. "Don't you know how annoying it is to be ignored like that?"

"Hey, I'm sorry you're so ignorable," Sharrkan said with a shrug, he didn't sound sorry at all as he lifted his glass of ale to his lips.

"You jerk!" Yamuraiha cried, and punched his shoulder angrily, which made him spill his liquor all over his front.

"Oh, man, this sucks! You're the jerk, you dirty witch!" Sharrkan snapped, and poured the rest of his glass onto her head.

The mage gasped and stood up reflexively from her seat with her arms held out from her sides and her neck craned forward in an attempt to keep the liquid from spreading any further than where it was, which was in her hair. "How _dare_ you do that to a lady!" she exclaimed in a high-pitched voice.

"What lady? I don't see any ladies here except for the whores in the corner over there," Sharrkan said as he jabbed his thumb over his shoulder to point to the scantily dressed women over on the couch, who were flirting with the customers and pouring them drinks.

Yamuraiha shot forward to choke the disrespectful young man, who fought back without restraint. Drunk as they were, they were equally matched in fighting ability at that moment.

Because their senses were dulled by alcohol and they had busied themselves with bickering, neither of them noticed the figure who had entered the bar.

The person looked around the area with sharp grey eyes until he found the person he was looking for.

The customer the newcomer seemed to want turned his head to the doorway after a few moments to see who had arrived.

The newcomer made a "come hither" motion with his finger, and the customer stood almost immediately, eyes wide. The person who wanted him was clad in official robes- he was a general! What could a general want with a simple, modest cobbler like him?

The man made his way over to the general as quickly as he could and followed the official outside with fear in his heart.

"Your name is Tariq, correct?" asked the one who had summoned him.

"Y-yes, my lord..." the cobbler said. He refused to make eye contact with the important person before him. "Have I done something wrong?"

"Not at all," the general assured. "Might I assume you know who I am?"

"I'm nearly certain that there is not one on this island who does not know you, Sir Ja'far..." Tarq said softly.

"Very good," the humble man could hear the small smile in the adviser's voice. "Tariq, I have something I must ask of you, not as an official, but as a customer. A very _well-paying_ customer,"

The cobbler's anxiety was almost entirely replaced with interest at the general's words. "A customer, you say?" he asked.

"According to the civilians of Sindria, you are the best cobbler this fine island nation has to offer to the public," Ja'far stated. "and because of this, I would like to request that you make me a pair of shoes."

Was that all? The young man had gotten excited for little to no reason. "Not to be rude, sir Ja'far, but aren't there far better cobblers who have taken up residence within the castle?" Tariq asked. "Why do you come to me with such a request?"

"If I ask the cobblers that reside within the castle, my doings will surely be reported to our beloved king," Ja'far said. "That is what I am trying to avoid."

"I understand, sir... It is not my business to question why you wish to hide your actions, therefore I shall not pry further," Tariq said.

"You are a smart one," praised Ja'far. "You will be greatly rewarded for this. I have other business to attend to tonight, but if you would please expect me when the moon is at its highest point tomorrow night, I will give you the specifications and measurements you'll need to fulfill my request."

"I shall eagerly await your appearance," Tariq said, he still refused to meet Ja'far's gaze, instead, he had been hunched over in a respectful bow during the entire meeting. He tried as hard as he possibly could to keep the excitement out of his voice, but he had done a horrible job at doing so.

"I thank you for your time," Ja'far said sincerely. "Now, I have heard that the head dancer here, Rachel, is a decent seamstress. If she is available, would you mind sending her out to see me? That is all I have to ask of you for tonight."

"Consider it done. I shall find her and send her out shortly," Tariq said happily, and slowly backed away from the pale general and into the brothel. He then stood up straight and looked around for the tall, broad-shouldered woman to send out to the awaiting adviser.

* * *

 _I've finished the important errands_ , Ja'far thought happily as he returned to his office. _Soon, I shall have the shoes, satchel, and clothing I require to complete my mission... Perhaps I should put together a list so that I don't forget anything once I have the bag. I can't forget food and water, and a few choice spells and a communication gem might be smart... Oh! I forgot to order more daggers from the blacksmith... Do I still have time? No, surely it's far too late. I'll do it before I set to tomorrow night's tasks. I'll leave an official note in his shop where he is sure to see it._

The adviser was so lost in his thoughts that he almost walked past the entryway to his office. Silently, he entered the empty room and was displeased to see a candle burning faintly on his desk. He had forgotten to put it out before he left, so it was at its final moments of life, and wax had overflowed from the holder and onto the clean wood of his desk, which turned his good mood into a sour one.

Angrily, he left the room to obtain some rags to clean up the mess. He decided that, since he wasn't going to be able to do his work that night because that had been his last candle, he would set to fetching more of the items he believed he needed, which ended up being several extra strips of cloth, which he used to tie up and store a lot of dried meats, dried fruits, and cheeses. He also obtained several flasks, which he filled with fresh water.

His shoulder was still sore, so those were, sadly, the only items he could obtain for that night. He decided that he would have to put off raiding Yamuraiha's lab for spell books and communication crystals until he was healed enough to do a risky mission like that.

After he had cleaned up his mess and stored his stolen items under his bed, where surely no one would find them, he decided he would sleep until the sun had risen enough to allow him to do his work, for there was nothing else that he could do.


	6. Check-up Gone Wrong

"Is your shoulder still sore? Are there any pinched nerves? Have you been able to move your arm properly?" Yamuraiha asked Ja'far as they neared the end of his daily check-up.

"It's healed for the most part now, and I've been stretching it daily so that now I'm almost able to raise my hand high above my head," Ja'far said with a small smile. "But, even so, it's still a little sore."

Yamuraiha grinned in satisfaction. "Soreness is normal, but if it's good otherwise, it means I went through the healing process right," she stated proudly. "I'll give you something for the aching once we're done here. Now, how about your ribs? Has the bruising gotten any better?"

Ja'far nodded and said, "They're still tender, but the area's not such a dark purple anymore."

"I'm surprised to hear about how fast you've been healing," Yamuraiha muttered in awe. "It's almost superhuman."

Ja'far shrugged. "It must be a gift," he said.

The magician pursed her lips and gave the adviser a funny look. "Perhaps it is, but, even so, you need to allow your body to heal up properly," she scolded. "That means you can't work all night like you have been! You also need to take breaks throughout the day! You're too stubborn to take full days off, but won't you please accept a compromise of resting every couple of hours or so?"

Ja'far sighed and quickly looked away. This woman! Why did she have to connect everything to his job? She was very thorough and made for an excellent medic, but the adviser just couldn't stand when she demanded that he abandon his work, even if it were only for a couple of hours. His job was his life, so how dare she try to take it from him?! If only he could work and rest at the same time...

"Very well," he grumbled. He wasn't about to argue with the magician at that moment, simply because he didn't want to. He had things to do, paperwork to finish, and Yamuraiha had the ability to drag out any argument for _hours_ if she was passionate enough about the topic, and Ja'far was absolutely certain that she was passionate about making him rest _._ All in all, it was probably best for him to just vocally accept what she had given him and completely dismiss the compromise from his brain later on when she was no longer around.

"Thank you for agreeing with me," the woman said with a smirk. "I'll be checking up on you every so often to make sure you stick to your end of the deal, so don't disappoint me, okay?"

The adviser had to push himself to suppress a groan. "I understand, Yamu," he huffed. "Are we done here?"

"No, not yet!" the witch declared. "I still have to get you that thing!"

"A thing?" Ja'far asked, confused. "What thing?"

"Earlier you told me that your shoulder was still sore, remember?" Yamuraiha informed.

 _Oh, right!_ Ja'far mentally slapped himself for forgetting something like that so quickly. "Ah, yes. Forgive me, my mind must have been elsewhere for a moment," he said.

"It's alright," Yamuraiha chuckled as she stood up. "I haven't really tested it for what it _should_ be used for just yet, so I'm sure you'll make the perfect guinea pig."

"It's untested?" Ja'far asked. "Does that mean it's dangerous?"

"I'm about... seventy-five percent certain that it's not going to hurt you," Yamuraiha said confidently before she broke out into a grin and made her way toward the door. "It's in my room, so I'll be right back!"

"Your room?" Ja'far asked for clarification, but the blue-haired witch had already zipped out the door before he could hark on her for taking a potentially dangerous magic item outside of the safety of her laboratory. Honestly, it was like that woman didn't care one bit for set rules! He'd be sure to give her a good talking-to once she came back. Also, what sort of a person was she, leaving an injured man all alone in her mess of a lab, anyway?

Wait... _Alone?_

... That's right, Ja'far was alone, wasn't he? He was also in the last area he needed to be in to retrieve the items he needed before he left for Parthevia. He couldn't have been provided with a better opportunity, he believed.

Yamuraiha must have arrived at her room by then, so he supposed he didn't have enough time to sift through all of her spell books for the spells he needed, but he was sure he would be able to swipe a key so that he could break in later that night. Surely he would also be able to grab a couple of communication gems before Yamuraiha got back.

Quickly, he stood up from the little cot in the corner of the room where Yamuraiha had made him sit and hurried through the mess of spell books and papers and cages in which her animal test subjects lie. He had to dodge several mysterious stains as well, as he was almost certain that if he were to touch any of the green, blue, red, or purple spots on the floor, he would get burned or poisoned or electrocuted or something around those lines. He wasn't about to take his chances.

He gradually made his way over to the other side of the room where a tall stack of shelves lie. On one of the ledges that rested at about the hight of his chest rested a small basket of communication gems, of which he stole two of and hid in one of the many holsters he had for his daggers. To be specific, it was the one that was tied around his upper arm.

Next was the key. The only problem was, Ja'far wasn't quite sure where Yamuraiha would hide the key to her lab... the place was too much of a mess to search through with what little time he had. Maybe, just maybe, if he got lucky, he might find it under one of her spell books or something...

Nope, it was too late. Just as Ja'far had begun to search, he heard Yamuraiha's loud footsteps echo through the hall. It sounded as though she were running in shoes made from wood or stone, but they were made from leather and cloth just like everyone else's. Ja'far didn't understand just how she could be so loud in those things.

There was no time to dwell on it, however. He had to make it back to that cot before she came back into the room. It was such a mess, though... there was no way he'd make it in time without breaking something or stepping somewhere he wasn't supposed to, like on one of those terrifying stains.

It seemed he had no choice, though. He had to get to the cot or Yamuraiha would suspect something, and if anyone suspected anything, all of his plans would be ruined.

Hastily, Ja'far made his way over to the cot. He stepped on top of one of the cages and spooked the chickens inside. He jumped over a table and, unfortunately, landed on the large red stain that had been nearby.

He was totally surprised, however, to find that nothing happened as a result of landing on the spot. Perhaps he had just been paranoid (though it had been for good reason!).

Finally, Ja'far dove onto the cot and covered his eyes with his uninjured arm.

Not even a second later, Yamuraiha stepped into the room. "I'm back~!" she sang with a smile. In her hands she held a small jar.

"I could hear your footsteps throughout your entire trek," Ja'far sighed. He slowly sat up with a grunt, which was all just an act to make the magician believe he had been lying there the entire time. "Now, would you mind explaining to me why a potentially dangerous concoction was _outside of the saftey of your laboratory?"_ he asked with venom in his voice.

Yamuraiha, however, seemed mostly oblivious to Ja'far's anger. "I had to test it!" she explained. "I didn't use it for what it was _meant_ to be used for, but if it doesn't work for aches and pains, it works as a great lubricant!"

Ja'far seemed to soften a little at that. A small, breathy laugh escaped from his lips. "A lubricant, you say?"

"I'd expect that from Sinbad, not you, Ja'far!" Yamuraiha huffed. "And yes, it works as a lubricant! I had a squeaky door and it fixed that in seconds," her expression changed to one of confusion. "Hey, do you smell smoke?"

"I do not, and perhaps you should oil the rails to your bed next. You should know by now that I am a light sleeper and the constant creaking of that metal every other night has been keeping me awake," Ja'far said.

"You...!" Yamuraiha growled. "Take the damn jar and get out of here."

"Would it be possible for me to get a jar of this stuff that _hasn't_ been used?"

 _"OUT!"_ Yamuraiha demanded. She plopped the jar into the adviser's hands and shoved him out of the room angrily. "Don't come back until you're ready to say sorry for being a jerk!"

Ja'far sighed. Well, he had had his fun. Now he had to figure out how he was supposed to get back into the magician's lab that night. He didn't have a key, but perhaps he could pick the lock... That was if he could still remember the trick to picking locks. He hadn't done it in a long time.

There was no use thinking about it while he still had work to do. Yamuraiha was angry with him, so perhaps she wouldn't come to check on him to make sure he was resting. Ja'far hoped that would be so, at least.

Man, he wanted to get back to work so badly... He began to walk down the hall. The want to work hit him so hard that he was practically burning with want.

More specifically, the soles of his feet were burning with want.

Wait, why were his feet burning?

Ja'far looked down at his feet and was shocked to see that _his shoes were on fire._

It must have been because he landed on that red stain! He had been stupid to think he could just tread on some random spot in a magician's laboratory and not have to face any consequences.

In a panicked flurry, Ja'far reached down to quickly take his shoes off, but lifting his feet to remove them had been a mistake, for, as the flaming fabric of the shoe touched the hem of his robes, they also caught on fire.

It took more effort than what should have been necessary to keep himself from screaming. He looked around frantically, but there was no water to be found nearby, and he couldn't call for Yamuraiha, because if she saw him on fire, she would know he had been creeping around in her lab! He knew there was still that _other_ option, but obviously his dignity was more important than his skin at that moment. Plus, he wasn't _completely_ on fire yet...

Ja'far was quickly running out of time, he knew, as the flames were steadily making their way up to his waist. He broke out into a sprint down the hall, hoping to reach his room before it was too late.

He didn't end up making it to his room in time in the end and had to strip himself of his burning clothing in the hallway where anyone could see him and hopefully nobody would.

Angrily, Ja'far ran the rest of the way back to his room. He left the smoldering remains of his only clothes in the hallway. There was no way he could have saved them.

Then left the real question: how was he supposed to do anything that day when he didn't have anything to wear?!


End file.
